


The Old One

by DKaneanite



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:41:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27589025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DKaneanite/pseuds/DKaneanite
Summary: This story is based on a badass fan art that I found while scrolling and the idea wouldn't leave me alone until I got it out. So enjoy. And enjoy their art here https://bamf-castiel.tumblr.com/post/159766234482 . All of their art is amazing and I absolutely recommend surfing it.Also the God that I based Cas off in this fic is  Aristaeus, who is a minor Greek God of bee-keeping, cheese-making, herding, olive-growing and hunting.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Kudos: 2





	The Old One

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based on a badass fan art that I found while scrolling and the idea wouldn't leave me alone until I got it out. So enjoy. And enjoy their art here https://bamf-castiel.tumblr.com/post/159766234482 . All of their art is amazing and I absolutely recommend surfing it.
> 
> Also the God that I based Cas off in this fic is Aristaeus, who is a minor Greek God of bee-keeping, cheese-making, herding, olive-growing and hunting.

He moved through the thick undergrowth on stealthy feet, his eyes glancing back every so often to make sure that he wasn't being followed. His brother had noticed him sneaking off during the dying of the daylight with a wine-skin and small sachet tied to his belt and when he tried to question him where it was he was going, he had always managed to deflect the question. It was no ones business where he went, no one but his and the old one. 

He ducked under a fallen branch, wincing as a stray thorn caught his shoulder and ripped into the skin but he spared no thought to the wound as he hurried on his way. At his hip the wine skin bumped, the sound of liquid sloshing in time with his movements and seemingly adding to the young man's urgency. Then as if by magic; and for all he knew maybe it was; the old temple rose from the dark green of woods, vines twisting over the cracked and crumbling structure and attempting to retake the stone stairs. He slowed his steps, drawing in deep breaths to regulate the racing of his pulse the closer he came, the old one didn't need to know he rushed here. 

Swallowing thickly he began to climb the stairs, offering a prayer before stepping inside the stone building. Around him the room lay is disrepair, statues crumbled to broken pieces; the only clean, well tended spot the dais were a clay plate detailed in shining gold sat next to a chalice. He knelt before the alter, giving his thanks for the bountiful hunt that would provide enough meat for a long while for him and his brother. 

Next he untied the wine-skin and gingerly tipped it's contents into the chalice, the thick white milk swirling idly before settling. What followed next was a chunk of Honeycomb and fresh cheese, each offering laid out on the platter in front of him along with an offering of freshly baked bread. He closed his eyes and sat in silence, basking in the serenity of the temple and allowing himself to become one with the building and the vegetation that surrounds him. The calm soothing him in a way only the temple could. 

His lips kicked up into a smile as he felt the atmosphere grow thick and he knew without opening his eyes that the old one has graced him with his presence. A feeling of warmth washed over him and he lifted his head, his green eyes alight. 

"Welcome young Hunter, I see you have returned."

"Of course, would it not I, who would worship at your alter?"

A grin lifted one side of the old one's lips, his blue eyes glowing softly in the dim light of the temple. "Someone would find their way here, after all you did."

He snorted as he moved from his kneeling position to sit with his legs crossed, staring up at deity in front of him. "True, but how long had it been before I found you? Who was your last to step foot in this temple? To worship you?"

The old one drew a breath and stared off into space and the moments moved past slowly. After a while he dropped his gaze back to the young hunter. 

"I cannot remember, but I recall he did not attend me as well as you."

The young hunter blushed, his eyes downcast. "Well his loss. I pledge to attend you until I am too old to climb those stairs, even then I will bring my offerings and leave them at the foot for you." 

Blue eyes lit the area and he felt the warmth wash over him again, the feeling of it caressing his bared skin. Heat bloomed in his face and he looked away again, as the sudden feeling of unworthiness raced through his veins. Who was he to be able to gaze upon the face of a God? To be granted an audience and converse as if old friends. 

"You doubt yourself?" The words were soft, breezing past his ears as if on the wind. 

"I do not deserve your kindness, your bounty." He raised his eyes up, a darkness dwelling in the green depths. "I am no scholar such as my brother, I can not praise you with words worthy of your stature. I have not the wealth to repair your temple nor the ability to do so with my own two hands. I am a mere hunter, one that drove a blade into your chest the first time we met." In shame he squeezed his eyes shut, unable to look upon the old one a moment longer.

Laughter welled in the room, bouncing off the stone walls and the young hunter was startled when he felt a hand on his shoulder. His eyes snapped open and up; their gaze locked with the blue orbs of the old one. 

"My young hunter, you have done more for me than any before you. You come and attend me daily, you offer praise and thanks for the gifts I have bestowed upon you. You bring me offerings from honey, to the flowers of the seasons. I care not what this building looks like, it is not the appearance that defines the God that inhabits it. It is the intent of those that worship the God. And you have been more dutiful than any I can recall."

The hand slid from the young hunters shoulder to cup his face, warmth radiating from the palm, sinking deeply into his skin and seemingly alighting him from within. How long they stood there the young hunter did not know but as the air began to grow lighter he knew that his time with the old one was up for the evening, but as the deity faded from sight he leaned in, brushing his lips across the hunters in a tender display. The warmth lingered there, tingling long after he had made his way home and to his bed, a smile curving his lips as he curled under his blanket. 

As he drifted off into the land of dreams he plotted his next offering to the old one, a name breezing through his mind at the thought. A name no one remembered but was now branded on his being.

_Castiel_


End file.
